Reach
by Renegone
Summary: A series of glimpses through Garrus's point of view. We pick up with Garrus when he sees Shepard for the first time after two years believing her to be dead. Lost and lacking direction, Shepard and her mission are just what he needs to get back on track.
1. Whenever You Need Me

I saw her first through the scope of my sniper rifle.

Nearly got me killed. I froze, and though I'll never admit it to her, I got caught staring. At first I just assumed she was a hallucination: I hadn't slept in over a day and I was really starting to feel it, not just in my muscles or the strain behind my eyes, but everywhere. I'd lost my team, lost my way, and the longer I stayed up there shooting down mercs the more I started to think that dying in that little shithole spaceport wouldn't be so bad. Wrex would have called it a good death, damn crazy Krogan. Sad part was, I was starting to agree with him.

So I shot her. Or at least, I shot her shields, just as a test. If she was Shepard, I'd know it immediately; I'd followed her into battle too many times not to know how she looked when she came under fire. Usually not from this angle, though. And as soon as I realized it _was_ her, I really regretted firing that shot. I was going to hear about it later, if I survived that is.

It was in the way she moved. Sure, all Alliance soldiers have the same basic training, and I'm not saying her style was all that unique. Except that it was. Watch a field of soldiers shooting for their lives and typically you will see a bunch of scared little boys, hoping to get a shot off before they get shot themselves. It's about survival. Commander Shepard was different - getting shot just pissed her off. The turian army had a saying that the humans shared, and it defined the Commander: the best defense is a good offense, and Shepard's offense was downright deadly.

What I felt then was hard to explain, and I couldn't explore it much thanks to the mercenaries breathing down my neck. I suppose if you want to be dramatic, you might say it was like seeing a guardian angel. Not in the sentimental way people have of saying things like that in the heat of the moment, but, just when I had grimly accepted that I would probably die in that little building, suddenly the tide shifted. The tide always shifted when she was there. After all, we're talking about a woman who defeated a Reaper with nothing but a hard suit and a little ammo. She was a goddamned legend. Things were looking up.

But it was more than that, even if it didn't register just then. It had been a long time since I had allies. When my squad was killed, all I had left in the world were enemies. I don't mind having enemies, particularly when I know I'm right, but I'd be lying if I said it never got to me, fighting alone for so long. No one to watch my back. I was relieved to see reinforcements, but I was glad to see a friend.

She blew through the mercs like they weren't even there, but that was hardly surprising. We'd faced worse. When she got to me I could tell in the way she stood that she didn't trust me, in that tight, cautious way she has of eying anyone who isn't on her team. I always liked that look, like at any moment she could burst right back into action and you'd be staring at the ceiling before you knew it.

It was different being back on the receiving end of that look after so long behind enemy lines, so to speak. She hadn't aimed it at me since she took me on board the Normandy, and it had been a long time since she had even bothered keeping an eye on me. She had come to trust me. I didn't know how much I valued that trust until I was standing in her presence without it. I suddenly understood what the rest of the galaxy felt when we walked up. That woman was _terrifying._ I had to suppress a chuckle. It was really good to see her.

I took my sweet time about revealing my identity. Joker would have called it slowrolling. I call it stylish flair. As soon as my helmet was off and I greeted her by name, her face changed.

Humans are always more expressive than other species. Turians hard exoskeleton keeps us from showing too much of ourselves in our features, and I'd always thought the humans were weak for allowing so much emotion in their faces. You could normally read any one of them like a book. In that moment, I was really glad that Shepard was human. I got to see every nuance of her expression as it went from skeptical to surprised, and from surprised to genuinely happy to see me. I think I even saw a fleck of pride thrown in the mix. I guess I wasn't the only one who needed a friend.

I didn't think of two years as a particularly long time anymore, but I guess it was long enough. I remembered her fighting style and the mischief streak only those who were close to her saw (or I doubt I would have tried the tease about my identity.) But I had forgotten the way she looked out for her team, not just now but in the long run. She had her own philosophy about building up her team. If you give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Beat him with it until he learns to fend for himself, and he eats forever. She was quick to ask how I'd let myself get holed up, and I was forced to admit what I wasn't proud of. Thirty seconds in and I was already feeling ashamed of myself. Damn, it was good to see her, but she was still a goddamned hard-ass.

And I might have really let it get to me, if it wasn't for that mischievous side coming right back out when she realized the odds were grim. Shepard didn't just survive harsh situations. She thrived on them. Her bright green eyes sparkled and she smirked with the kind of masochistic enjoyment that defined her in times like these. She didn't like suffering, but she sure as hell liked proving that she could take on anything the galaxy threw at her and come out smiling the other side. Her grin in the face of imminent danger was infectious.

So I told her the truth. "Glad to see you haven't changed."

When she popped the head off a scout with my sniper rifle, I knew I was right.

Then the waves of mercs came. She had never looked so good in combat, and she still had that other quality, too. Ingenuity. I laughed my ass off when that heavy mech turned around and started shooting the mercs instead of us. She was ducked behind a wall with bullets whizzing inches away from her helmet, but she still took the time to turn to me and wink in that sly way of hers. 'Told ya I'd handled it,' she seemed to say, and then she popped back up and started giving the Eclipse hell. I'd forgotten how much fun fighting alongside her could be. Sure took the sting out of getting myself into this mess in the first place.

I told her the truth when the round was done. "You're kicking ass, Shepard." She just tilted her head and smirked, an expression somewhere between 'Thank you' and 'I know.'

Yeah, she was a hard-ass. And a little bit cocky, too. But when the Blood Pack started bursting through the doors downstairs, she reminded me why none of us hated her for it. I told her I'd be fine on my own. If the mercs hadn't taken me out so far, there was no reason to believe they would accomplish it now. But she insisted. Left the big mouth Cerberus guy with me to watch my back. Wasn't the same as if she stayed, but I appreciated it all the same. At least it would give them someone else to aim for. Sometimes that's all it took.

Maybe she's not the only one who's cocky.

Anyway. They started to come through the door. When Garm got there, I got worried. I was cornered, tired, and he was fresh and _really_ angry. But she was there in an instant. I heard her footsteps as soon as I made the call. She took the stairs by twos and threes and treated her shotgun as her cover. Before I knew it she was blazing into the room and Garm never stood a chance.

I didn't see it for myself, but I hear after the gunship took me down she was like a varren in a corner. She was always scary with a grenade launcher. Next thing I know I'm coming to, choking on my own blood. I'd never been so close to death before. Can't say I ever want to be again. I was in and out of consciousness. Nothing really sticks until I woke up in the Normandy with Dr. Chakwas standing over me.

I'm not really sure what all they did to me. Frankly, I didn't stay to find out. I had to get to where she was, let her know I was alright, let her know I was grateful. More than that, I needed to sign on to whatever she had cooking. I had almost died, but I felt better than I had in months. I needed what she had to offer: a mission, a purpose. And now, I had to a debt to repay.

Taylor was surprised to see me. She wasn't. She just crossed her arms over her ribs and smirked at me, as if she'd known all along what Taylor only figured out in that moment. "Tough son of a bitch." She nodded in agreement. I ignored Taylor - nothing personal, but my entrance just proved that he was an outsider to this conversation. At least he had the good sense to let two old friends catch up, and he left soon afterwards. I laughed when she made light of my scars. I appreciated it, at first. It was good to make light of my injuries, and my pride only stung a little when she called me ugly. Well to a turian, she wasn't so good looking, either. Except for the smile.

When the doors closed behind Taylor, I took half a moment to look at her, gauging her. It was usually easier to get information out of her this way. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of what was going on, or at least the basics. I didn't know how she was alive, or what she was doing on Omega, and I sure as hell didn't know why she had come looking for me after all this time. But I did know what mattered in that moment. She wasn't quite comfortable - I could see it in the way she held herself, that old tightness, but not against me. Against the ship. Against Taylor. The AI I'd seen helping Dr. Chakwas in the med bay. Maybe all of the above. I had to ask.

But it didn't come out as a question. It came out more... honestly than I intended. I told her I was worried about her, but she didn't give my worry any weight. She acknowledged it, sure. She could hardly deny it - I know her too well for that. She simply accepted it as valid, and brushed it aside. "That's why I'm glad you're here Garrus. If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust by my side."

My dry humor got the better of me. "You do realize this plan has me walking into hell, too?" But the joke fell as quickly as my resistance. "Just like old times." I was nostalgic for good reasons. I hadn't been the same since she died. Ineffectual. Frustrated. And now, broken. Shepard was like the glue that was putting me back together. I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to be whole again, even if it was only for another insane mission. Shepard wasn't just what the Galaxy needed. In that moment, she was what I needed, too.

"I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard."

She nodded again. And again, it seemed like she'd known it all along.


	2. Where You Lead

I wanted to kill Alenko for the things he said on Horizon.

Not that I usually let some pipsqueaks' naive ideals rub me the wrong way. But something about the way he spoke to Shepard made my blood boil. It would have been all too easy to pay him the same favor we had the Collectors. It was what we did to anyone who stood in our way, and it was clear that Alenko wasn't on our side, not anymore. He was just as bad as the Council. Aw hell, I can go on justifying it all day. Wouldn't do any good, though.

It felt dirty, wrong, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the Commander. Any decent person - any _sane_ person would have turned away to give the two love birds some privacy. And in my defense, I did, at the start. When he first appeared and started talking about Shepard in that gooey hero worship voice of his, I wanted to be anywhere but in that courtyard.

Oh sure, we all knew about the Commander and Alenko back in the old days. Hard to be in a confined space like a star ship and not know everyone else's business. But the only time I ever had to witness the foolishness was when she saved him on Virmire. I remember being torn then, worried that Shepard was losing her edge, making choices based on her feelings and not on the ruthless - but efficient - way she did things any other day. When Alenko argued with her back on the Normandy that she should have saved Williams and not him, I was inclined to agree with him. I always liked Ashley. She had an itchy trigger finger, just like me. Alenko was always a little too in love with the Alliance for my taste. I never really understood what she saw in him.

But when she shot him down, it was with the same cold determination she showed in any other instance. It was her call to make, and whatever her reasons she had made it and it was final. Very final, for Williams. Every part of me that thought she was losing her nerve because of Alenko was silenced. Secretly, even from myself, I found myself wishing that anyone had my back the way Shepard had Alenko's. Turians have a habit of always thinking of themselves as expendable, ready to sacrifice anything in the name of the greater good. It would have been nice to find that there was someone in the galaxy who didn't agree with me on that.

The way she hugged him on Horizon proved me wrong. Up until that point, even after Virmire, I had thought their relationship was more about relieving stress over the battle with Saren than real connection. It's something that translates well to Turian life, after all, but I guess I was just imposing my habits onto Shepard. Their embrace felt... private. Intimate. I guess it was no more intimate than any other reunion between lovers, but all the same. I felt out of place.

And then the back-stabbing Alliance do-boy started talking.

He left a sour taste in my mouth from the start. Anyone who talks about love like it's a weapon - as if they're only mentioning it to dig the knife a little deeper into your back - well, all they deserve is a good swift kneejerk if you ask me. I couldn't believe Shepard was so patient with him, but I guess she understood where he was coming from. I did, too, at least when it comes to Cerberus. I didn't trust them a bit, either. None of us did, least of all Shepard. But I understood the need for their help. Alenko was too much of an Alliance man, too much of a soldier. He followed orders, and trusted his superiors to know best. In this case, he was just following the wrong superior.

I hated him for that. It was clear, at least it was clear to me, that he was different from the other squad members on the Normandy two years before. Most of us had joined ranks with Shepard because she was right, because we respected her, and, eventually, because we trusted her. Alenko was just following orders. I had to give him credit for being a good soldier, but sometimes a soldier isn't what you need. Sometimes what you need is a friend. He didn't meet any definition of friend I had ever heard. He looked right in her face on Horizon and told her that he was an Alliance man, and not her man. I wanted to rip his face off.

But I didn't. I was too distracted. Massani's hands were clenched into fists like he was ready to beat the kid to a pulp, glaring two-tone daggers into Alenko's back. Me, I could only turn my eyes to Shepard. It was just a flicker, barely even noticeable if you weren't keeping your eyes open for it, or if you weren't used to studying her features for clues the way I was. That cold, hard something in her eyes that always made her seem infallible faltered for half a second, and behind that there was only - something. Maybe pain, maybe loss, I don't know. It was enough to simply see that it existed.

A split second. That was it. She gave herself half a moment to mourn, half a moment to feel, and then it was over. She lifted her chin again and like every other defeat I'd ever seen her face, she shook it off like a robe that doesn't fit. It was her pure brass that got her through everything she had faced, her stubborn refusal to accept anything but victory - not just survival. We followed her because she was indomitable, and in that moment I knew, somehow, that leading us wasn't just about having the right tools for the job. Kaidan Alenko brought nothing to the table that any other Alliance space jockey couldn't bring. It was about protecting us. All of us. It was about having the best possible chance for victory, and for everyone sharing in that victory.

I guess I'd always known it, at least ever since she helped me tie up loose ends before the battle with Saren instead of telling me to shove it. But I never said it aloud, or to myself, until that moment. I realized then, though, what I had known almost since the day I met her. Anywhere Commander Shepard led, I would follow.

But it wasn't until that moment I knew I loved her.


	3. Delicate

I probably should have told her. Something smooth like, hey, sorry to interrupt your suicide mission to save your species - just thought I'd let you know...

But we had bigger fish to fry. The Collectors. The Reapers. Rescuing the galaxy from total annihilation. You know, the usual.

And anyway, it wasn't that kind of feeling. It wasn't like the annoying asaris in the music vids, singing about how torn up their hearts are. It was... quieter. I just knew I respected her more than anyone. She could have been a teacher, or a mentor, or anyone else who had opened my eyes the way she had. She could have been a sister.

Well, maybe not a sister.

She was still human. There was something very... _off_ about that. Call me anti-alien if you want, but feeling anything more than what I felt would have just been _weird_. I wasn't even remotely curious about... consummating anything. And she was such a damn hardass I wasn't really interested in a relationship, either. (Just imagine getting a honey-do list from Commander Freaking Shepard.) I just... loved her. That's all.

So I forgot about it. Forcibly, sometimes. I got reeeaaally caught up calibrating the guns for the Normandy – because you know how much training C-Sec officers get in Alliance-engineered ordnance. She seemed to buy it, though. If she ever noticed my hesitation she never said so. She just nodded and went back about her business.

I guess that was my first mistake.

Things stayed that way for a long while, until I got the message from an old contact about Sidonis. Yeah, the bastard who got my squad killed. I probably could have handled it all myself – asked to get off at the next stop and headed to the Citadel on my own – or maybe I couldn't. Come to think of it, there was no way in hell Shepard would have let me go off on my own once she heard about it anyway. She probably enjoyed getting revenge on that asshole as much as I did.

So I told her. Alright, I didn't just tell her. I nearly crushed the terminal I'd used and told Chambers to send the Commander my way as soon as she saw her. Then when Shepard got there I blurted out my whole sob story to her like a child who lost their favorite toy. But she responded just like I knew she would – like only Tali and I knew she would. Everyone had their issues about going on a suicide mission, but only the Quarian and myself knew that no matter what, Shepard wouldn't let us go through there without doing all she could to put our minds at ease. She'd done it for us last time. The Galaxy was important, but she always remembered that her crew was part of it.

"Thane has business on the Citadel as well. We'll set a course immediately, knock 'em both out at once."

I should have known it then. _Thane_. Not Krios. Even if she was Cerberus now, since when did the marine in her refer to anyone by their first name unless she felt close to them?

But I didn't notice it. Why would I? Krios was just another merc to me. A highly trained, impressive merc, but just another merc. I had been with the group that assaulted Nassana's building, had been by Shepard's side as we barreled our way through her guards. I had been fighting right next to her, our styles the same – full frontal assault, brute force, superior firepower. We just downright overpowered our enemies. We got the job done.

Meanwhile Krios had been sneaking around the ducts like some kind of vermin. I'd give it to him, his work was impressive in close quarters. But I had to laugh at him anyway. He was nothing compared to _us._

Guess I found out the hard way how wrong I was.

I assumed he was just another Cerberus dossier. That's how the Commander was recruiting these days, apparently – with the old crew gone. She got a recommendation, she investigated, and she offered them a place on her team. She didn't seem particularly fond of any of them. Miranda and Jacob had their strengths, but they were hardly friends. She seemed to take a shine to Mordin, even if they argued every time he mentioned the word 'genophage.' Shepard took it personally, for Wrex's sake. As for the rest, who were they? A thief. An old geizer. A clone. A convict. A wanna-be-Jedi asari.

None of these upstart newbies in the crew had any idea what Shepard was really like. They couldn't possibly replace the camaraderie from the old Normandy. I don't know what made me think that while I was busy doing calibrations, the rest of the crew couldn't possibly be getting to know all the wonderful things I already knew about our leader. Stupid.

As soon as we landed on Citadel, I knew different.

It was something about how the conversation was way over my head, even though I could keep up with everything they said. Soon as we started talking to Bailey, it became clear that Thane's mission was highly sensitive, highly personal, but Shepard already seemed to know all the details. I don't know if it was jealousy, or what you'd call it if it wasn't, but I had to wonder when they had become so close. I was a definite third wheel, an odd feeling for someone who had always assumed I'd be her right hand man. I guess I only got what was coming to me.

We saved his kid first. If I were a prouder man I wouldn't admit to being envious of him a second time that day, but what he hell use do I have for pride anymore? So I'll say it. I was envious. I never really wanted to settle down, have kids, do the daddy thing. It was always more important to be in the heat of the action, and no kid needs to deal with that kind of trauma if something happens to me. But here this guy got the best of both worlds. Sure, he'd screwed it up, but he was making it up. I guess what I was really green about was that he'd had the guts to try it in the first place.

And I didn't even know how right I was yet.

I won't lie. Killing Sidonis felt _good_. Really good. She didn't stop me, and I appreciated that. She didn't stop me hurting Harkin either. Knew she would understand. It was like she told Jack. A bullet in the head solves everything. It definitely did with Sidonis. It was nothing less than he deserved. Betrayal repaid.

And if nothing else, the distraction kept me from reading too much into the way Shepard seemed to have incorporated Thane's sure-shot biotics seamlessly into her fighting style, or the friendly competition they had running – the way she'd used to do with me.

"I'll take an assault rifle any day," she told him as she tore through a mech's shields, her gun smoking. "More bullets, more damage."

A bullet tore through her target's helmet, spraying circuitry. "I beg to differ," he countered, smirk audible in his voice.

And all I could think to say was, "Nice shot."

_Author's note: I apologize for the wanna-be-Jedi line. But seriously!_


End file.
